


Showing Dean he's just right

by waywardimpalawriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Smut, comfort/ hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 10:17:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11079537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardimpalawriter/pseuds/waywardimpalawriter
Summary: Imagine Dean feeling like he's not as fit or young as he once was. Those thoughts have been circling his head and transferring to you (the reader) making him think that he’s not good enough for you.





	Showing Dean he's just right

Hearing the smack of tape wrapped fists hitting leather, grunts echoing down the short hall, as you round the corner leaning against the door frame watching. A little voyeurism never hurt anyone especially when the subject you’re watching is one Dean Winchester. Strong hands hitting soft leather, however with each strike you could tell somethings on his mind. Distracted more than usual, working out harder than he normally would.

It’d started about two weeks ago. You’d find Dean spending extra hours in the bunkers gym hitting the bag, lifting weights and even running. Something that surely wasn’t the eldest Winchester’s favorite thing to do. You knew he stayed in shape even with all the burgers, beer and pie, but this, this was different almost like he’s a man on a mission. Still somethings off you can feel it and couldn’t let it drop. Not if there’s something you could do to help him.

Slowly taking steps inside, you leaned against the treadmill, Sam used when the weather was too bad to go out. Studying Dean closer the tight, sweat soaked t-shirt clinging to a chest you’d like nothing more than to get to know more intimately. Sweat pants hanging from a lean muscular waist and hips that swiveled with each turn and punch. Thick bow legs that carried his movements which fascinated and turned you on more than you’d be willing to admit in a court of law. However, what got you the most is the sadness that seems to envelop him. His handsome features draw down, focused on every hit of the bag as his biceps flexed and rolled.

Swallowing hard and pushing away from the treadmill you quietly walked closer to the punching bag. “Dean?” you softly asked after the last punch hit the leather, sending the bag backwards.

Pausing, arms halting the progress of the bag before Dean settled his tormented emerald gaze on you, then in a blink everything’s blank and he’s giving you his patented smirk. “What’s up sweetheart?”

Puzzled, you stare at him for a moment wondering if the vulnerability you’d seen had really been there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Mission control this is Apollo, hey Houston you got your ears on?” he joked snapping his fingers in front of your face.

Jerking back, “We’re on earth, in Houston hmm go finger,” you snark back playfully. Watching his eyes crinkle at the sides as a smile graces those full lips. Lips you’ve dreamt about kissing before. “Just wondering if you’re alright? I’ve noticed you working out more, training for a spot on the WWE?”

“Whatch ya talkin’ about Y/N I plan on being the next Undertaker,” grinning again that for some reason didn’t meet his eyes.

A fact that you noticed after being around him and Sam for almost five years. Or maybe it had something to do also with the fact that you’ve been slowly falling in love with the man in question and noticed things a little more than you should. Either way you forged ahead with a smile hoping he’d open up to you.

Laughing you smack his shoulder feeling the hard muscle underneath sweat slicked tanned skin and soaked t-shirt. “And here I was thinking the Rock?” Cocking your head to the side to stare at him, sobering. “Seriously thought is everything alright Dean?”

Shaking his head, brushing the concern aside with another heart melting smile and a wave of his hand, “I’m fine Y/N no reason to worry.”

“I still worry that’s what friends are for right?” giving him the brightest smile you watch him turn from you attitude becoming a touch frosty. “Beside you can tell me anything.”

Taking another swing at the bag, Dean kept quiet hoping you’d take the hint that the discussions closed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to open up to you he couldn’t. Not when you’re some of the reason for his currant mood. If he’d only listened to Sam all those weeks ago maybe his currant train of thought and self-decrepitating thoughts wouldn’t be running through his mind along with all the other shit piled on top. He knew deep down it shouldn’t matter what comments some random chick from a dive bar said. However, those words nagged at him when it came to you. He’d seen how you looked at other guys, younger, fit guys. And yet when you’d look back at him nothing, not even an appreciative once-over. Not like he even expect that in the first place. You’d been hunting to long together, living side by side and Dean figured you saw him more as a brother than anything else.

Noticing you hadn’t moved, Dean stopped and turned to look at you, “Something else bothering ya Kojak?”

At a loss you take a step back, “No I guess not,” you turn to leave tossing over your shoulder, “When you pull your head outta your ass let me know Winchester.”

Growling deep, Dean punches the bag so hard it swung in a large arch up. Only barely side stepping the heavy bag as it came back or it would’ve knocked him down. Cradling his left hand and cursing under his breath, Dean stocked off towards the kitchen for ice all the while frustrated at his current situation.

 

Two weeks later.

 

Another dive bar in some small town you can’t remember the name, same hard chairs you sat in, drinking stale beer, watching. Sam on the other side of you studying the open laptop trying to search for a few clues as to where the pack you were hunting could be bedded down. Your e/c eyes kept going back towards Dean who at the moment kept company with a busty blonde with legs a dancer would kill for and a short attention span. Her high pitched bubbly laughter floating towards you from a side table against the wall setting your teeth on edge.

Calmly you sipped your warm beer brushing aside the fact that Dean had been ignoring you for the last few weeks. Your worry over his attitude change trying to take a back seat because of the hunt. Yet couldn’t with how he treated everyone else, Sam included, and even some unknown, unnamed bimbo, better than you. Sighing you turned your eyes back to the cooled burger hearing Sam type away.

“Don’t worry about Dean, Y/N. He’ll be fine,” Sam voiced hazel eyes flicking over to you searching.

Puzzled by the look in his eyes you scowled, “I wish the two of you would stop saying that for crying out loud. I worry is there some cosmic reason I can’t do that?”

Chuckling, Sam shook his head, “No there’s not. It’s just,” he paused eyes flicking over to Dean watching him interact with the blonde. Whose tongue was currently half way down Dean’s throat. “Never mind.”

Groaning you want to slap Sam upside his gorgeous brown head but settle for tossing a balled up napkin at him. “You suck Winchester both of you,” before raising up plate and long neck in both hands to find you a place at the bar away from both brothers.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched you change seats a frown marring his features as he pulled Blondie from his lap to stand.

“Come on babe let’s get out of here,” she cooed nibbling at his ear lobe.

Looking back down into her watery blue eyes he answered, “Give me a second doll,” before taking off without waiting for an answer.

He’d heard your parting words to Sam, making him approach a little cautiously. “Y/N?” he paused right next to you studying your side profile.

The bar lights hitting you just right to illuminate your features, making your h/c stand out. His fingers itched to run through the soft strands. Watching you turn a fraction he saw the scathing look you gave him.

“Oh now you remember me that’s nice. I’m currently closed,” you snark turning back to face the bartender who gave you a wink which you returned with a soft smile. Not understanding why he’d be flirting with a pudgy woman like you. When the man you’d want to look at you that way didn’t nor wanted to.

“Well excuse me you PMS avenger just checking on you,” Dean barked starting to step away. He should’ve known you wouldn’t want him around right then not with the young buck giving you the hot once over. Bile rose in the back of his throat at the very through that scumbag could have any chance.

Shock had you turning quickly, “Fuck you Dean go back to your blonde bimbo and leave me alone. Since that’s what your good at in the first place,” you spat slipping get off the bar stool, tossing some cash down and storming out.

You didn’t stop till your hand hit the bars shabby wooden door and even then that’s only to slam it open and out into the warm night air. You don’t hear someone follow till an arm grabs your wrist pulling you into a hard chest.

“What’s your problem woman?” Dean growled shoving his face close to yours so that his eyes bore into your e/c.

Resisting the urge to slap him, you try to take a step back seeing Sam behind Dean. “My problem really that’s rich,” you tossed back yanking your hand free of his grasp. “What’s the matter blondie didn’t want to suck face anymore?” you goaded eyes taunting Dean.

“Y/N come on let’s go back to the hotel,” Sam offered coming between the two of you. He didn’t like this new change in your relationship. He’d known for a bit about his brothers feelings or at least guessed at them. Though right now Sam wasn’t sure of too much just that he had to break the two of you up.

Dean stared at Sam’s back anger making him see red, “Listen to Sammy Y/N be a good little girl and go home.”

Catching you before you could launch yourself at Dean, “Little? You need your eyes checked old man,” you growled pushing at the wall of Sam’s chest.

Color drained from Dean’s face at your words as he turned on his heel and stocked back into the bar.

Sam had turned at the right time to see the hurt look cross Dean’s face before its shoved away and he’s gone back towards the bar and emptiness.

“Smooth move ex-lax I think you’ve hurt his feelings,” Sam chided turning back to face you. Troubled eyes scanning you face seeing the distress tingled with anger.

“Yeah well the asshat deserved it,” you return stomping off back towards the hotel room and some hopeful peace.

Not having meant a word but your to hurt right then to say anything different to either brother. You’d stupidly through Dean at least saw you as a best friend one he could come to. Yet now you didn’t know what to think as the silence between the two of you the last four weeks spoke volumes to you at least. Tomorrow you’d apologize to Sam. As for Dean who knew?

With that thought in mind you stepped into your own room, slamming the door behind you, locking it and getting ready for bed. Pulling an oversized Gas monkey garage t-shirt and shorts out before heading to the bathroom. Hoping your bed wouldn’t be too itchy or smelly.

Pounding sounded almost to the point the flimsy piece of wood broke under the fist of someone knocking harshly at your door. A quick check of your watch showed that it’s only a little pass nine am.

“Y/N wake up,” Sam yelled pounding again this time a little harder.

Jumping from the bed eyes barely open you rush to the door, flinging it open to see an almost panicking Sam standing there.

“What’s happened?” you asked fear lacing your veins waking you better than any cup of coffee could.

“Dean he hasn’t been back and it’s almost nine,” he answered pushing you back into the room and slamming the door.

“Who? But how?” so many thoughts running through your mind at that second. Sure Dean had stayed at a bimbo’s house for longer cause he’s pissed drunk. But never this long. Quickly you run around the room grabbing up clothes, pulling them on and dashing for the front door Sam right behind you. “Where do we start?”

“The bar only place I can think of from there we fan out. Bullets at the ready,” you could hear the worry in Sam’s voice as he spoke the both of you jumping into Baby at the same time.

Worrying your bottom lip you don’t know what to say or ask fear holding your tongue in a tight grip. “Dean I’ll be fine we’ll find him,” you stated more for your own nerves than Sam’s.

“Haven’t lost the jerk in all my life ain’t gonna start now,” he returned giving you a tight lipped smile before focusing back on the road.

Hours pass and your no closer to finding the packs hide out nor any sign of Dean, then you’d been when you first started. Having checked the bar over twice, the small diner and police station coming up with nothing. When your eyes set on the bimbo from the night before.

Smacking Sam's arm, “Look its blondie wanna bet if we follow her we’ll find Dean,” lifting a brow you watched the other woman get into a truck.

Nodding Sam shifted Baby into gear following the newer Dodge pickup as close as he could without getting spotted hopefully. Pulling to a stop just before an old dirt road.

“Cliché much,” you stated under your breath exiting the Impala then heading towards the back. So many emotions ran through you in that moment. Yet all you could do was pray that Dean wasn’t badly hurt or worse. The last thought you pushed from you mind not wanting to think the worse right now, not till or if you’re faced with it.

“Going in together then fan out cover more ground,” Sam suggested checking the silver rounds in his gun.

“Kill anything that moves except us of course and Dean,” you couldn’t wait to get your hands on the blonde for whatever she’d done to Dean, she’d pay for.

Twenty minutes of hiking through the woods you and Sam came upon a rundown house and barn. Pausing only long enough to share a look before you each go in different directions.

Eyes searching, ears perked for any noise you could hear while rounding the first corner leading back behind the barn. Gun trained forward as you edged yourself around checking, even double checking till gun fire broke the silence, making you jog towards the house.

Seeing Sam standing over the dead body of the bartender from last night. Blood oozing from a cut on Sam’s cheek, as he rubbed the knuckles of his left hand on his jeans spreading more crimson on the denim fabric.

“One down x amount to go huh?” you asked coming up.

“Something like that. Just hope there ain’t many more,” he answered starting for the house.

Once inside Sam motioned for you to go left while he took right. Stopping dead in your tracks, coming face to face with the blonde.

“Well looky here Deano your favorite chew toy has come to rescue you. How sweet,” she growled eyes flashing as she held the knife to Dean’s throat.

Taking in the fact that he’d lost his dark blue plaid shirt, slashes cut into his black t-shirt exposing large gashes in his chest and stomach. He looked up at you surprise registering in those emerald eyes you loved. A bruise forming on his right jaw angry and purple right now, busted lip with dried blood, his hands tied behind his back.

“Told ya that bitch was trouble Dean,” you voiced aiming right for her head.

“Try it and he dies puppy chow,” she stated digging the knife in deeper drawing a small bead of blood.

You wished Sam would hurry up and come up around the other side of this woman and take her out. Yet, something trickled in the back of your mind a noise another fight leaving you on your own with wolf lady and Dean.

“Who ever said I wouldn’t kill him myself? Cheating bastard,” you spat watching Dean’s eyes widen still watching you. Wondering what you’re playing at.

Yanking his head back, “That true baby you cheat on this piece of shit?” she cooed into his ear licking the side of his face. “Most men would I’m sure. Fat, ugly, couldn’t fight her way out of the dog house but still worth the rut to easy, at least for a moment the tension. We put runts like you down sweetie,” she sneered. “Or use you for sport not much else.”

No matter how much you wanted to close your eyes and let those words wash over you, you didn’t instead you took strength from Dean. Who looked at you, no imploring you to not believe what she’s saying. As unbelievable as the look in his eyes were you still believed in him, even with how angry you’d been the previous night and for the last four weeks. In that second you knew what you had to do.

“Your right, but you see sometimes the runt becomes top bitch after scratching her way through the cesspool of crap,” cocking your head to the side taking aim. “You done messed with the wrong bitch’s mate,” firing, your shot hit true right between the eyes dropping her dead before she hit the floor.

Feet pounding the floor as Sam came to a stop taking in the scene before him. “Remind me never to piss you off when you’re holding a gun.”

Shaking your head, “Stow it Sam and go get the car so we can get Dean out of here,” you couldn’t stop the slight smile gracing your lips at his words.

Only for it to fall when you looked back at Dean. His eyes down cast as you walked towards him pulling the pocket knife from your jeans. Stopping behind him you set to work cutting through the ropes letting them drop before putting you knife away. Tentatively, since you weren’t sure how he’d accept your touch or help, you placed your hands on his shoulders feeling them tense up.

“Relax Dean I’m not going to hurt you,” you softly say into his ear, breath ghosting over his shoulder. Gently you worked the muscles of his shoulders watching him rub his wrists. Thinking they’ll need your special ointment to help them heal.

Leaving his shoulders you step around him, checking, cataloging each cut and bruise. Tentatively you reached out framing his waist with your hands slowly pressing inward checking for breaks while listening for any hiss of pain from Dean. He only issued a curse when your fingers brushed over one cut. Finishing your initial emanation you take his left arm gently helping him stand letting some of his weight on you while you both start for the door. Nether speaking yet Dean couldn’t deny how good it felt to have you so close again. Nor could he stop himself for feeling so stupid with the fight you’d had last night that ended up with him almost wolf food.

Making for Baby, which Sam had parked just outside the house, you lean Dean’s body against the warm metal while quickly opening the back door. Heading back to grab him the look on his face makes you pause. “I’m driving,” trying to stand on his own two feet while holding the tattered remains of his shirt in place to keep the blood from oozing out.

Snorting, “Driving?” you question skeptically arms crossed over your chest glaring at the man. “Pff as if. How about bleeding to death Rambo since that’s all you can do right now,”

He took two steps and damn near collapsed on the ground face first. Only thing holding him up right then is your arms and shear well. “Son of a bitch,” he breathed out tightening his hold on your shoulder a little more as you guide him towards the door, pain coursing through his system making it hard to breathe for a minute.

“Hold there till I get the med kit,” you state leaving his side for a few seconds, only to turn back. “You ain’t gonna pass out on me are ya Chief?”

“Just get the damn kit Hot lips or I really am gonna bleed to death,” he gouged right arm wrapped back around his waist as a sharp pain raced across his body again. Knowing he’d lost a lot of blood, not to mention that he could feel that there’s at least three bruised ribs, numerous cuts and blooming bruises.

Snorting, you make your way back towards Dean from the trunk, “Houlihan I ain’t Hawkeye but thanks for the compliment.”

Chuckling, “Watched the show have you?” anything to get his mind off the pain and just how close you were to him, plus how good you smelled even with the light sheen of sweat covering your body.

“A time or three hundred,” you return, setting the med kit on Baby’s trunk then turning back to Dean seeing that his shirt would need to come off. “Trust me?”

Lifting a brow, “That’s a scary question, why would…” before he could finish his answer you had grabbed the remains of his shirt and ripped them as carefully from his bruised body as you could. Gasping and not for a good reason, Dean stared straight ahead as pain bloomed in his chest, searing and hot. “Next time you want me naked just ask. It’d hurt a hell’va a lot less,” he groaned leaning more onto the door and hood of the Impala behind him.

“Why ask when it’s more fun to just rip,” you snark back catching his pale emerald eyes, seeing a flash of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “Besides you can’t tell me you don’t like it a little rough.”

Dean snorted finally able to look down into your e/c eyes catching what he thought to be disgust in them as they raked over his exposed chest, making him flinch and look away. When in reality you were more worried right then about his wounds and patching them up as best you could till all of you could get back to the motel. Therefore you ignored his snort and set to work gently wiping away dried blood and applying fresh gauze and pressure. You knew the majority of the larger cuts would need stiches, something you didn’t want to do out here and run the risk of infection. Once the larger two wounds were covered in gauze, you set to work loosely wrapping his chest in a couple of ace bandages just to keep everything in place. Every time the bandage wound its way to his back you had to lean in, breathing in the coppery tang of his blood, mixed with stale whiskey, old cologne and something that was all Dean. The first two didn’t do much for you, but the last had you closing your eyes praying this would be over soon or you might just have to reach out and touch someone, namely Dean, in a way he may not like.

“Alright that should hold you till we make it back to the motel,” you stated reaching for Dean, to help him into the car as easily as possible.

Rejecting the offered hand, Dean turned slightly wincing at the pressure it put on his chest, to slid himself into the soft leather seat. A groan of pain leaving his full lips as he bit down to keep the explanative from coming out. Recoiling from him almost as if he’s hit you and in reality he has just not physically and that hurts you all the more. Because you’d thought, well hoped that maybe whatever funk he’d been in left. Staring for a few more seconds before turning back to cleaning your mess up and putting the med kit away. Muttering under your breath about what a jackass he’s being and how ungrateful and wanting to smack the shit out of him. Instead, you bit the inside of your cheek cutting the words off.

“Sam shake a leg,” you hollered out slamming the passenger door, jarring Dean from the light sleep he’d fell into. You felt bad but those feelings left the moment your memoires of him refusing your help or even making eye contact surfaced.

“Keep your pants on Y/N I’m coming,” Sam huffed making for the driver’s side. “How is he?”

Scowling, “His usual baby self,” you growl shaking your head. “Bodies taken care of?”

Nodding, Sam wants to ask more but decides that’s not a wise idea, “I’ll drop the two of you off at the motel and go to grab food.”

“No,” you bark, sending a glare over the hood of the Impala at the younger Winchester. “You can patch up grumpy there, I’ll get the food. I don’t feel like being alone with him more than I have to right now.”

You reach for the handle trying to close the discussion but, “You’re stitching is better, besides you two need to talk,” Sam shot back pulling the door open and closed effectively ending the argument this time.  

Growling, you get in as well knowing it’s going to be a long night ahead of you and not one that you’d enjoy either.

Half an hour later, Sam pulled into the parking spot turning to look at you expectantly. Groaning, you pull your body from the car thankful this time you’d been the one with the least to no bruises or wounds. Course that doesn’t mean what would take place next would be any easier, as you pull the back door open and lean in.

“Hey sleeping beauty wakey, wakey,” gently you reach out rubbing Dean’s shoulder trying to get him to wake up ignoring the fact that he looked so peaceful when he slept almost like an angel. That thought made you snort and shake him a little harder, being mindful of his wounds though.

“Five more minutes Sammy,” he states turning away from your hand only to wince in pain, eyes shooting open.

Cocking your head to the side, “Come on big boy, let’s get your sorry ass inside and liquored up,” you huff, when he evades your hands trying to help.

“I got it for crying out loud I can get out of my own damn car,” he growled, slowly pulling himself from the backseat, one hand on the roof as the other held his stomach and chest. Standing however became a different issue as his feet refused to comply with his brains wishes almost taking a dirt nap for all his stubbornness.

“Serves you right,” you snark hearing the driver door open and Sam rushing to open the motel room door while you have drag, half walk Dean in. “You need patching up to Sasquatch you can’t go out looking like Mike Tyson,” you called out watching Sam make quick work of the motel room door.

Inside, you notice Sam didn’t waste time exiting, burning off quicker than a prostitute leaving Sunday morning confession. A trail of dust and rocks in his wake. Shaking your head, you help Dean to sit on one of the hard chairs, before running around closing the door and locking it, gathering supplies, getting the bed ready and washing your hands. You wondered if he’d refuse your help this time like the last. However you push that thought aside, walking back towards him. He’s your friend of God’s sake and right then he needed your help weather he wanted it or not.

“Up you go,” reaching out to catch him under his right arm feeling him tense again at your touch. Questions circle your mind, wondering if thing’s between the two of you were worse off than you though or did the very sight of you disgust him. The she wolf’s words coming back to you in that second making you feel like maybe she’d been right all along.

Grumbling under his breath, Dean allowed you to help him over to the bed, extra towels spread out to keep the blood from staining the sheets, a pail of water sitting on the night stand, tendrils of steam raising from the surface. Every muscle in his body ached, the deep gashes over his stomach and chest burning in pain as you sat him carefully down on the edge of the mattress. Watching you from under those sinfully long lashes, studying the ridged stance you’d taken up while sterilizing the needle and thread. He wanted to speak, to ask but knowing deep down it’s the way he’d been acting that had you in such a state. Dean wasn’t sure how to fix the problem and any ideas on how flew out the window when you turned back to him, scissors in one had Hunter’s helper in the other.

“Drink,” shoving the bottle into his hand, eyeing him as he took a nice long pull before handing it back to you.

“If you don’t want to play doctor Y/N just wait for Sam to come back,” he stated finally looking up into your eyes. Seeing a flash of pain brighten those normally soft e/c eyes. “You might rather watch me bleed to death that’d be fun right?”

Snorting, “You wish Winchester,” you return placing the Jack Daniels bottle down next to the scissors you’d put down earlier, to help him lay back. “You gonna bite my head off again?” you ask motioning that he needed to lay back and was willing to assist.

Shaking his head, your touch searing into the skin of his shoulders where your hands helped him recline back against the prop of pillows you’d set up to keep him a little comfortable. Rearranging them just how you liked to hopefully give him some relief from the pain. In a blink, you’ve put his feet on the bed and working on pulling his boots off. Letting them hit the floor at the end, eyes traveling up his large frame pausing to take in every cut, bruise and wound, making sure you remember them all so no infection sets in. However, in the back of your mind you can’t help but think what a handsome man he is. Yet the thought is laced with pain as you recall that he wouldn’t choose you over some bimbo in another bar. Swallowing those thoughts, you set to work, reaching for the scissors again to cut the gauze in half, before turning to grab the wash cloth. Wetting it generously, knowing that the blood by now would’ve dried, adhering the gauze to his skin. Not that you weren’t thinking of just ripping it off and letting him suffer for everything he’d put you and Sam through. But the better part of you won out instead as you rung out the excess warm water over the make shift bandage letting it loosen the blood before gently pulling it back. Looking up when he hissed through clenched teeth, face screwed up in pain despite the liquor you’d given him.

“Sorry,” you mutter still peeling back to large piece of gauze exposing the largest of the wounds on his tanned chest. Reaching back you snag the bottle of Jack, handing it to him, as your fingers brush against his. A tingle electrified your veins as that briefest of touches made its way to your heart, squeezing the largest muscle is your body with both pain and passion in equal amounts. Shoving those thoughts aside there’s no use for them anyway at a time like this.

Setting to work, you finish removing the dirty bandages carefully. Only making him move around a little, knowing and hearing the hisses and grunts leaving his lips. Gently you used the wash cloth to wipe the majority of dried and fresh blood from the wounds. Sizing them up, knowing that each ran pretty deep, and needing the stitches you’d already sterilized. Your eyes had been on the task at hand, not Dean who in turned studied you’re profile. Watching as your e/c eyes flicked over his body, glancing up to his face every once in a while. He noticed something in those beautiful eyes of yours a faint glimmer of something he couldn’t put his finger one right then.

Yet is gone with a hiss of pain, his fingers digging into this itchy sheets beneath him, eyes screwing up tight as you gently wipe the alcohol across his skin. Wishing for the first time that it’s Sam’s heavy hand working on him instead of yours. Since the mire touch of your fingertips scorched more than his skin, but his heart as well. The delicate touch with which you started to stitch up his busted body. What struck him the most is the words flowing from your ruby lips, the slight frown that turned them down and most of all how you kept the plush bottom lip between your teeth as you worked.

“Just breath Dean, it’ll be over soon I promise,” you cooed softly releasing your bottom lip for a moment, eyes still focused on his chest. The quick raise and fall letting you know he hasn’t passed out yet.

“No sure take your time, not like it smarts or anything,” he snarkes back gritting his teeth again as you pull the thread through his skin tautly. His breath catching when you lean down over him, your h/c hair brushed against the skin of his stomach. Eyes watching while you bit into the thread severing the pieces before tying the end off. His fingers itched to run through that hair, holding it aside while placing his nose against the column of your throat breathing you in and placing open mouth kisses to the soft flesh. Shaking his head, Dean tried to clear it still watching you work, the hard set of your jaw, the flicker of your e/c eyes.

Temptation so strong you had to remember with whom you were dealing with and why right then. As you wanted nothing more than to draw your lips along the tanned expanse of his chest testing the firm muscles you could see moving with each intake of breath and subtle movement of his body. Now that Dean’s a little clearer you could breathe in the light scent of his skin tinged with sweat and leather from sitting into the back of Baby shirtless. Closing your eyes for a second to regain control of yourself, you turn quickly missing the flash of hurt that graced Dean’s features right then.

Grabbing up antibacterial ointment, a stack of four by four gauze and tape, gently spreading the ointment over and around the stitches, before applying the gauze and tape. “One down, one to go,” you mutter replaying every step from the last procedure efficiently, avoiding looking up at Dean the whole time.

Time passed and you’d finished cleaning and dressing up all the wounds. Stepping back, you use the pail of cooled water to wash your hands for now and set to work on cleaning up the mess you’d made while patching Dean up. Still avoiding looking in his shirtless direction and away from temptation. Because you knew if you kept staring at him you’d snap and the rejection he’d return would destroy you.

Meanwhile Dean watched you through hood emerald eyes filled with longing to have your touch back on his body, to have you talk hell about anything right then. Internally he cursed himself for not being better at the chick flick type stuff. Besides that’s Sam department anyway right? He figured the way you’re turning away from him, your eyes never quiet looking at him that he disgusted you somehow. Those very thoughts made him hold his tongue till he felt soft cotton hit him square in the chest.

“What the hell’s that for?” he demanded fire snapping into his eyes that found you staring at the spot just above his head.

“Cover up,” you simply stated turning back to gather all the trash up, sacked and ready for the dumpster out back or burned.

“So I disgust you that much do I?” Dean demanded boring a hole into your back willing you to turn around and confirm his suspicions.  

Swiftly, you turn on the balls of your booted feet staring incredulously at the man currently trying to raise up from his prone position. “Are you a stark raving lunatic or just mentally challenged?” you demand jamming your hands on your hips to glare at Dean. Eyes this time meeting his, a fire igniting deep within.

Cocking a brow and finally achieving his goal of sitting up on the side of the bed, sending you a glare strong enough to kill a lesser man, “Name calling now Y/N? How kindergarten of you,” he snarked in return trying to stand on his own two feet, but failing and falling back into the bed with a pained groan.

“Serves you right for trying to stand on your own,” you shake your head at him a light growl escaping while you stand there studying the man you’ve grown to love. “You pop those stitches and I’m duct taping your ass back together Dean Winchester.”

“Hey it’s the force after all, light, dark, holds the universe together why not me as well,” he groaned dropping back against the bed with another harsh groan this time louder as his actions pull at every wound and bruise. “Besides you’re already disgusted with me in the first place, what’s a little more?”

Eyes shocked wide at his words, you shake your head fury lighting your e/c eyes. “What the fucking hell are you talking about Dean? When the hell have you ever disgusted me? Unless you count now when you’re being a total ass for no reason other than the fact you need a little amusement.”

Snorting, Dean lifted his body once more into the sitting position hands spread out behind him to keep him up right. Arms flexing with the exertion of keeping him up right, breathe coming out in short pants, chest a distraction for your eyes. As his own came up to stare straight into your eyes, “Amusement? Are you fucking kidding me?” he growled in return adrenalin shooting through his system giving him the needed boost to stand up.

“Pop those stitches…” you’re voice trailed off as Dean stocked towards you on shaky bowed legs making you swallow hard at the power of strength of him. You resisted the urge to help him not understanding why he’d want to try and walk right now anyway and being distracted by the expanse of flesh exposed to your eyes. Biting your bottom lip you watched, weary of his approach.

“Yeah, yeah I get it and you’ll put me back together like Johnny five,” he snapped stopping before you, staring down into your eyes. Getting back to the real issue at hand, “You think I’m amused by the way you look at me? Like you can’t wait to get away from me.”

Shaking your head, you pause letting his words sink in and thinking back to everything that’s happened over the last month. Shock coursing through your system at the realization. “You, you think I’m disgusted by you?” you stutter out returning the eye contact.

“Not think sweetheart, I know,” he returned watching as an array of emotions cross you features and yet disgust isn’t one of them. The nickname dripping from his lips making you bit the corner of your own as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You don’t know shit Winchester,” you growl stepping up to him standing almost nose to nose invading his space. “I don’t know where this fucked up idea came from but get it out of your thick skull cause it’s far from the truth.”

A snort issued from his lips, with a roll of his eyes, “Truth?” he sneered starting to turn away an ache building in his body from the wounds still too fresh for this fight to be taking place. Though it’s the ache in his heart that hurts worse than any wound could. “I’ll give you some truth. You’ve been ignoring me for the last two weeks, looking everywhere but at me. Hell even Sam has noticed.”

In that moment Sam decided to poke his head in, “War zone all clear,” he took one look at you and Dean. “Nope world war three still in progress. I’m out,” he stated ducking back out the way he came.

Shocked by Sam’s sudden appearance and disappearance Dean’s words don’t register for a few seconds but when they do, “I’ve been ignoring you?” you huff wanting to hit his handsome face so hard, giving him another shiner to match the one currently blooming on his mug. “That’s a funny one since it’s you who’ve been ignoring me and every time I’ve tried to get your sorry ass to talk you’ve shut me down.”

“With good reason,” he returned stepping back towards you, getting into your space.

Brow lifting, “Let’s hear these reasons then?”

Sputtering, at a loss for words, Dean turned away emotions conflicted.

“Not so fast,” you exclaimed grabbed for Dean’s arm, pulling him around to face you again. “I don’t know where this idea came from that you disgust me Dean,” your voice softens seeing the slump in his posture and not understanding where any of this was coming from. “It’s far from the truth if anything,” you bite your bottom lip eyes down cast so you didn’t see the rejection to come. “If anything I think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met.”

Snorting, Dean pulled his arm free, “I don’t need your pity Y/N,” he growled making it back to the bed, dropping down onto his back, flinging an arm over his face. A groan leaving is lips with the effort to keep from showing just how much pain he’s in.

Shock, hot and heavy ran through your veins at his words. How could he think you pitied him? You watched him for a few minutes, seeing that he seemed to have fallen into his own thoughts right now and not paying any attention to what you were doing. Softly you toe off your boots, biting your bottom lip, trying to work up the courage to do the one thing you’ve always wanted to. Besides you could prove your point better this way right? You just hoped that God was listening and that Dean didn’t reject you the moment your hands would touch him.

Trying to block out the sounds, or lack thereof, Dean kept his arm thrown over his face. Not wanting to watch you leave or laugh. His thoughts a storm inside his mind, as your words ran circles trying to be rejected by his brain. But his heart seemed to have grabbed ahold and took off with them. He’s so conflicted that he never heard you approach not till there’s a soft touch of your hand on his face, brushing through his tussled brown hair gently. Slipping down the slope of his jaw, brushing the pads of your fingers over his cheeks, then lips only to return to his hair.

Hands shook but embolden by the fact that he hasn’t moved yet, you keep carding your fingers through his hair. Till his eyes open to stare up at you hovering over him.

“Y/N?” his voice caught slightly seeing you e/c eyes darken a fraction while looking at him.

“You’re an idiot Dean Winchester,” you state affection in your voice that doesn’t seem to be able to speak above a whisper.

Confused by the mixture of emotions and your hand, Dean reaches up to pull yours from his hair holding it in his larger callused one. “I see we’re still in kindergarten.”

“You never left,” you snark back removing your hand from his seeing the disappointment flash behind those emerald eyes. “You think what I said was pity?” you ask motioning for him to move over.

Puzzled, though he complies with your request wincing when it pulled at the stitches. Something you take notice of as you crawl onto the bed beside him, siting cross legged, pulling a tube of ointment from you back pocket. You grabbed the special cream from your own duffle bag before coming over to him, something you mother had told you about a long time ago that helped with bruises. Without a single word, you squeezed a generous amount into the palm of your hand, taken Dean’s right one with your left and applying a thin coat. Gently rubbing the cream into his sore wrist with the pads of your fingers. Hearing him groan, your eyes shoot up to his, seeing the look of bliss crossing his features.

“You never answered me,” you state working your hands up his arm and into the bicep feeling the tension start to melt away.

“Why are you doing this?” he countered finally opening his darken eyes to stare at you.

Shrugging, “You’re arms had been tied behind your back, I know the muscles have to be sore,” you answered licking your suddenly dry lips while keeping your own eyes on what you’re doing. Hoping your plan would work instead of back firing.

“Doesn’t answer my question,” he stated groaning in appreciation as your fingers hit a sore spot. Part of him wished you’d stop, the feelings your hands were provoking started to drive him nuts. Though the other half of him hoped you’d never stop, as it felt too good and having you this close, body heat warming the right side of him, started to break down the walls he’d erected to keep you out.

Snorting, you work your fingers around his shoulder as best you could while he’s laying down, “What a surprise you didn’t answer mine either,” you return pulling away when satisfied his right side was finished.

Bottom lip between your teeth again, you place the tube of cream on his chest before starting to get up on to your knees. Seeing that he’s watching your every move, as you stretch your legs a little before flinging one over his hips careful not to touch the fresh bandages on his stomach and chest. To rest just below his waist, your weight being held up by your knees. Balance a little bit of an issue till you rested one hand on the right side, reaching forward to grab the cream your body brushing against Dean’s as you hear him hiss.

“Shit did I, did I hurt you,” you worried your bottom lip noticing his eyes came from watching them up to your own. A flutter of heat swam its way through your body at the way he’s looking at you. A mixture of shock and passion, with a touch of lust thrown in for good measure.

“You’re killing me,” he groaned being torn in two by the heat of your body over him. The light fragrance of gardenia, tinged with sweat and something soft that Dean couldn’t put his finger on, filled his nose making it hard to concentrate. Eyes started to close, but flew open when you grabbed his left arm, cool cream being smoothed over his rough hand and wrist. His right hand twitched to wrap around your soft waist and pull you down against him, wounds be damned. You’re driving him crazy with just the simple touches and the feel of your plush body so close.

“I’m sorry,” you return not feeling the apology one bit as your fingers keep working. Embolden by the fact that he’s yet to yank you off him or his hand from yours. You bring the limb currently in your hand up, laying a soft kiss the bruised knuckle.

Eyes flew open at the soft touch to lock with yours. Shock warred with pleasure as those lips laid a few more kisses across his bruised knuckles before turning the hand over palm opening up just as your lips made contact with the callused middle. Body on fire and not from infection, Dean tried to sit up, his free hand landing on your hip keeping you in place but fell back with a pained grunt. “Y/N?”

Confidence starting to wan as you try to keep yourself from moving away. His hand a distraction on you hip, fingers that draw light circles over the denim of your jeans reaffirming that confidence. “Hmm, what Dean?” you ask, voice smooth and quiet while your lips keep traveling over his palm to wrist and farther down till you couldn’t reach any other part unless you laid down over the top of him.

“What,” he swallowed hard trying to take a deep breath seeing the ghost of a smile flit across your beautiful features. “What are you doing?” he doesn’t want you to stop nor move as he pulls his hand from your grasp to rest on your free hip keeping the two of you locked together loosely.

“Trying to ease the pain,” you reply keeping as still as you could with both his hands heating your body to the point of combustion. “Beside you never answered my question.”

Were you serious he couldn’t think at a time like this, “Y/N seriously?” he questioned giving you a lust blown arched stare. Fingers itching to travel up the expanse of your back and bring you down to him for a long hungry kiss.

Nodding, biting your bottom lip again, “Totally,” you responded leaning forward to ghost your lips over the bruise darkening his left eye just above the brow. Trailing them to the side, to his ear nibbling, “I don’t pity you Dean,” you swallow, breath sliding over the shell of his ear. “I meant everything I said to you.”

Groaning, Dean tries to roll the two of you over but you resist, “Damn it Y/N,” he growled his hands coming to cage your face in, making it meet his, eyes staring at one another searching. “Why?”

Blinking, “Why what?”

Taking a deep breath, a mistake as your scent drove him crazy and you being so close was breaking him. “Why don’t I disgust you?”

Rolling your eyes you try not to smack him for being stupid. “Seriously Dean,” you pull back raising up to watch him close down once again, his hands falling to his side. “The hell you will Winchester,” you growl fed up with the bullshit he’s trying to pull.

Quickly you lean down over him, careful to keep your weight from pressing down on his, hands on either side of his head. This time you caged him in staring, devouring the heat from his body, catching what you thought is shame clouding the passion and lust. Without thinking you lay your lips against his taking what you want and be damn the consequences. Making torturously slow movements of your lips over his sweeping the tip of your tongue over the seam of his lips. Fingers sliding from beside his head to card in his lush locks tugging slightly. You press several kisses to his closed lips, before worry and fear start to creep in at the fact that he hadn’t moved. His hands still lay beside him, eyes closed firmly.

Pulling back, “Oh God,” you exclaimed feeling the embarrassment creep up your cheeks staining them red and hot. “I, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have,” you stammer starting to pull away from him, raising up and getting ready to move off.

When a pair of large hands grip you cheeks causing you to look back at Dean shock registered first and only emotion you could read off him. You wanted no needed to leave, your embarrassment having come full circle. Yet the gentle hands on your face, the thumb that traces your plush bottom lip has you freezing, scared. His features turning from shock to passion and want. Licking his dry lips, your eyes following the path over the soft pink needing another taste yet scared he’d pull away.

“Warn a guy next time you want to attack,” he breathed bringing your mouth back down to his licking his lips again. “I’m old remember you might give me a heart attack next time,” this time a grin spread across his features, crinkling the corners of his eyes stealing your breathe.

“I’m the same age you are Winchester, you calling me old?” you challenge staring at him watching the path his tongue took, the way his eyes seemed to light up brighter this time and you couldn’t help yourself. Leaning down you nibbled on his bottom lip sucking it into your warm mouth biting down subtly eliciting a growl from Dean.

He went to roll you both over again, but you’re stopped him, hands moving from his hair to the bed, knees digging into the mattress beneath you. “Fucking hell Y/N,” he demanded pulling back from you a frown marring his features.

Shaking your head, you lean down over him, bodies brushing against each other slowly, gently. “My treat tonight,” you whisper against his ear, licking the shell as his hands come up to grip your waist lowering you down over the bugle growing in his jeans. A hiss issuing from soft parted lips, as your own place a light kiss just behind his ear, tongue dancing over the soft skin. Bragging downward till your mouth settled over his shoulder, nibbling the flesh.

“Y/N?” he groaned with a question hanging in his voice.

Pulling back your h/c hair hang around the two of you like a curtain keeping the rest of the world out. “If you don’t want me tell me to stop,” you voice sounding and soft, mesmerized by lust blown emerald eyes watching you.

Rough hands tugged at the hem of your shirt, as fingers started to dance underneath said light blue cotton touching all the skin he could reach before flatting out his palms over your back. Running them up, shirt coming with as you let him pull it off you. “What do you think baby girl?” he asked rolling his hips against your core. Letting you feel his erection, hot and hard through your jeans. Shirt flung over the side of the bed, his eyes dropping to the swells of your breasts, nipples already hard poking through the black satin bra you wore.

Biting your lip, “Then stop trying to control this Dean. Your hurt let me take care of you,” you voiced mouth descending to his collarbone, where you laid open mouthed kisses, sucking the skin lightly, before raking your teeth over the flesh. Hands reaching down to ghost over his chest, making sure to keep your touch light.

“You,” he swallowed hard feeling your fingers draw imaginary lines on his body setting fire to each spot you touch. “You don’t have to,” he finally manages to get out rubbing his hands along your back up to your bra clasp. Toying the edges feeling a sigh escape your lips, breath sliding over his skin.

Pulling back, hearing him let out a grunt in protest, “No I don’t have to,” you acquiesced rolling your hips against his slowly, torturously. “I want to,” you smile pulling his left hand from your back were it’d been toying with the clasp of your bra. Once against bringing the limb up, making him open his palm to place another kiss. Which turned into him cupping the side of your face bringing your mouth back down to his.

There’s no slow movement this time, only heat, a clashing of lips and teeth. Tongues battling out, as mouths opened, sucking, devouring each other with a passion nether had experienced. Dean’s fingers running through your long h/c hair tugging at the strands, a groan leaving your lips this time as you both rock into the other. The friction dangerous and inviting. Your own hands work their way down between you, palming the bulge in his jeans, hearing him hiss while his teeth latch onto your bottom lip. Returning the nibbles you gave him earlier and giving the plush lip a bite before both of you pull away for air.

Immediately you attack his neck again, making it arch to give you better access. Warm, wet tongue gliding down the strong column feeling his heart beat racing through the pulse point of his neck. Teeth nipping lightly as you move down his body slowly, nose sliding across his stubbled jaw drawing in the scent of his skin. Your own heart beating wildly in your chest at the tiny noises he makes, the way he grips your hips, sliding his fingers back up your spine.

Sitting up you grab his arms from around your body placing them at his side, seeing the puzzled look gracing his features, still your hands hadn’t moved. “You keep touching me and I won’t think clearly Dean. Now be a good boy and lay still for me.”

Dean snorts but does as you ask, a smirk moving into place, when your fingers trail up his arms to rest on his shoulders, “So my touch makes you what weak?” he questions, leaning up on his forearms capturing your graze.

Nodding, at the smirk on his lips you lean back down, kissing him passionately answering his questing tongue with your own. Pulling another moan from your lips as he sucks on yours, fingers tracing circles on your hips heating the flesh under nether the denim.

Pulling away, “I’m gonna need something to tie your hands up,” you growl moving farther down his body watching his eyes glow with lust.

“Kinky, I like that,” he winks before a groan leaves his parted lips.

Yours attacking his left nipple drawing your tongue around the edge before sucking light, fingers once again tracing his body. Landing on the waist band of his jeans, to pop the button and lower the zipper. “You have no idea Dean,” you grin laving you tongue over the expanses of his chest to the right nipple giving it the same treatment. Enjoying the power you had over him right then as your warm hand slipped between his body and the denim and cotton of his boxers, to circle the head of his cock. Feeling the pre-cum already oozing from the tip, giving you the right amount of lubrication to glade your palm over the length of his long, thick shift. Grinning like mad when his hips bucked up.

“You think you disgust me hmm?” you quietly ask lips finding an old faded scar tracing the white edges before giving it a simple kiss. Wanting to reassure him of how you see him.

Dean swallowed hard, making you want to kiss his Adams apple as it bobbed with the movement. Biting your lip, leaning up to do just that. You place a nibbling kiss to his neck again before retreating. Your eyes landing on the anti-possession tattoo a mischievous look entering your bright e/c pools as you glance up at him. Seeing dark emerald orbs watching you, breathe coming out in short pants. Slowly, eyes lock, as you place a kiss right to the center of the tattoo hearing him groan at the contact. Maybe from the soft touch of lips or from the small flick of your fingers over the tip of his cock. Hips jumping at the contact, needing more.

“Damn it Y/N your killing me,” he groans itching to run his fingers along your body, to pull you closer and devour. “It’s not fair I’m half naked and you’re still fully clothed.”

Laughter, a sweet melody to his ears, followed by the flat of your tongue over his skin. “My shirts off Dean I’m not fully clothes,” you answered against his skin moving along to an old bullet wound drawing a wet path over him. Feeling tension enter his body, “Besides I like you this way, half naked for my eyes only. Gorgeous expanse of chest to,” you pause sitting up to run your left hand over his body slowly. “Touch, and kiss,” leaning towards his right side gently kissing the slight pudge.

“Y/N,” he breathed out giving in and carding his fingers through your hair, tugging upward. “I’m not…”

Cocking your head to the side, “You’re not what? Handsome,” pressed another kiss to his chest. “Badass,” to the center of his body. “So fucking sexy,” a kiss to his left side, tongue running along his skin, before sucking slightly.

Groaning, his eyes wide with shock, not just because of your words but the actions and the way your eyes shone with, could he dare thinking it, say it, love. He goes to say something but you shake your head. “Nope don’t say it or I’m getting off this bed and leaving,” the stubborn set of your jaw and gleam of pride and love has him pausing.

“You wouldn’t…” he beings, only to see you start to move away. “Wait, fine, alright I won’t say it,” he grumbles sighing when your hand returns to the top of his jeans starting to inch them down slowly. Grinning when his cock popped free, curving up towards his chest, already dripping with pre-cum that makes your mouth salivate for a taste.

Biting your bottom lip while wiggling down his body, your own heating at the very sight of his naked form laid out for your enjoyment. Once at the bottom of the bed, pants pulled from his body, and dropped to the floor, you stare taking him all in. Watching as he watches you.

Lifting a brow, “You gonna stand there all night or help a guy out, preferably naked of course,” Dean smirks biting his full bottom lip. Admiring the way your breasts move still encased in black satin as you take deep breaths, the soft pale skin of you plush stomach calling out to be bitten and kissed. The swell of your thighs begging to be gripped as he plunges into the wet depths of your core. Wrapping those strong legs around his waist holding him in place while roughly or softly taking you. A groan leaves his lips at the way you’re staring, a mixture of desire and want flashing in those beautiful eyes. “Baby your killing me,” he groans again.

“Oh but a way to go,” you answered licking your lips before laying a knee on the bed. Watching his eyes pop open to survey your every movement. You couldn’t believe this is happening after so long of wanting it and now to have it. Better than a dream come true.

Slowly prowling up his body letting your own slide over his, mouth dipping every few inches to kiss and lick before coming to the center of Dean. Drawing the tip of your tongue from crown to base enjoying the hiss, his hips jumping off the bed, his cock bumping into your chin.

“Christ almighty Y/N,” Dean growls fisting the sheets again this time tighter.

You smile sweetly, placing an open mouth kiss to his right hip, then left, before traveling the dark brown trail of hair from navel to base camp. Another groan leaving his lips as your hands ghost over his hips and stomach. Nails scratching lightly, drawing downward to his thighs while your mouth overs work the hard length, tonguing the underside all the way to the crown. Wrapping your lips around the head, sucking softly as your right hand comes up to join your mouth. Circling the base, giving his shaft a few light strokes. While another curse flies from Dean’s lips, his hands coming down to card in your long h/c hair. Your own groan leaves your lips at the feeling of his fingers running through the strands, blunt nails lightly scrapping against your scalp.

“Dean,” you nearly whined pulling away to stare up at him, watching the puzzled look on his face morphing into a smirk when realization hit him. “I think I better go get the rope from Baby,” you tease, fingers still sliding over his hard cock, tightening the strokes of your fist, plumping slowly.

Propping his upper body on his elbows, Dean stared at you a heart stopping grin curving his lips, broken by the wince from his lower abdomen. “Sam has Baby, remember sweetheart,” he growls as you’ve taken the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking, tongue dancing over the slit gathering the drops of pre-cum that seeped out. Tasting him on your tongue a groan of pure delight and pleasure reverberating down his thick shaft, causing a grunt to leave his lips.

Dropping back his intent to bring you up his body gone by how sweet your mouth felt on him. How electrifying your touch to his body is. Making him bite down on his bottom lip, trying to keep the moan from escaping, hands having returned to your hair just resting there giving you light tugs.

Without warning, you take him down almost whole, hips jumping off the bed as the warm, wet cavern engulfs his cock. Hands at the base softly twisting, with every upward movement of your tongue and mouth. Drawing patterns up and down his shaft with the tip of your tongue, feeling him harden even more in your mouth. His breath coming out in pants and moans from above you, spurring on the motions. Your own body alight with want. Yet, you push that aside. This was Dean’s time, to show him how much he meant to you, how much you cared. Your own needs would be met later, once he’s healed, you knew he wouldn’t disappoint.

“Y/N,” he called on other moan when your mouth slide back up to the tip gently nibbling, fingers dancing between that little space where his cock met, his sac. Before cupping them in your hands and lowering your face to suck each into your mouth.

Letting go with a wet pop, to smile up at a dazed Dean, “Yes sugar lips?” you inquire laving your tongue up the underside of his penis tracing the thick vein that pulsed back to the top. Were your mouth retakes him in deep, head bobbing, nails scratching his thighs.

“Shit woman, that,” he swallows thickly eyes rolling back into his skull at the pleasure your giving him. Not that he hadn’t had a blowjob before, but most of the time Dean liked to give and rarely received as most of the women he’d picked up only thought of their own pleasure and not his. This time, however something’s different. Maybe it has something to do with how you’re unselfishly giving of yourself to him, when so many hadn’t. Maybe it’s the fact that you hadn’t shied away from his body once he’s naked. Yet, most of all what broke him, besides the wicked way you’re using your mouth, teeth and tongue is the emotions shining in your eyes every time they met his.

At this point he couldn’t think, just feel. Incoherent words slipping from his full kiss swollen lips, along with moans and a few groans to. As you double you efforts, feeling his hips start to arch up, you place one hand on his pelvis attempting to keep him still as your mouth devoured his cock. The fat head hitting the back of your throat while you bobbed taking him in deeper. You knew he’s close, part of you wanted to drag it out, torture him a little more. The other half wanted to give him mercy, which you granted, feeling his fingers come back to card through your hair gently guiding.

Breathe coming out in short bursts, body convulsing, teeth biting into his bottom lip as the trimmers shook his frame. So wicked and wonderful, the tantalizing sway of your body over his as your eyes lock his heart pounding. All too soon his orgasm flows through him, coating your mouth with his seed that you swallow down. Grinning and humming around his sensitive cock working him through the last trimmers of his orgasm.

A wet pop and you’re wiping at the corners of your mouth giving Dean a Cheshire cat grin, sliding to the side of him. Watching as his chest rose and fell in quick succession a smirk growing on his own lips as he reaches for you. However, you stay out of the way of his hands shaking your head.

“Another night sugar,” you coo reaching the head of the bed and plopping down beside him. “Your hurt, don’t need you popping these stiches,” lightly tapping the gauze, giving them a check in the process.

Slowly, rolling himself onto his side, a pained wince visible, Dean wraps his arm around your waist fingering the band of your jeans, tugging you to come closer. “I’ll concede under one condition.”

Lifting a brow, “And that would be stud?”

Dean tugged again pulling you flush against his body feeling the denim of your jeans rub against his skin. His own fingers walking along your spine. “Naked beside me forever?”

Before you can answer the door opens and a shout reverberates around the room, “Holy shit Dean I didn’t need to see your naked ass,” Sam exclaimed, eyes now closed trying to find the counter and dropping dinner down. “Warn a guy next time you have a woman over.”

“Who said he had a woman over Samquatch,” you voice popping your head up over Dean’s body, hands gliding around the area of his chest and abdomen, hearing the sharp intake of breathe from the man your softly draped over.

Hazel eyes shocked wide at your voice, “Y/N?” the question comes out surprised, yet an under currant of pleased to. “Bout fucking time,” he stated when he could finally find his voice.

Taking advantage of your position Dean places the flat of his right hand on your stomach, sliding it over your smooth soft skin. Feeling the goosebumps blossoming as a shiver moves down your frame making contact with his. “Dean,” you give him a warning glare before refocusing on the younger Winchester who’s still smirking at you.

Realizing Dean’s intent, “Oh come on I’m still in the damn room Dean, Christ. I’m gonna need eye bleach as the image of Dean’s naked ass in seared into my brain,” he groaned backing out. “Matter of fact I’m out, you two bump like bunnies all you want. Just don’t mess with my stuff,” he calls out while the door closes behind him.

Shaking your head, you focus on Dean again who’s silently laughing, “Find something amusing Winchester?”

He nods, “The shit I’m gonna give him,” he begins chuckling then grimaces when you pinch his stomach. “Hey injured man here. No pinching allowed,” he grumbled pushing you onto your back hovering over you.

“No teasing Sam,” you counter staring up at him, arms going around his neck staring into his deep emerald eyes.

“It’s my job sweetheart as older brother,” he grins leaning down to place his lips against yours in a deep hunger kiss. “Now about you still being clothed?”

Giggling, shaking your head, “Your incorrigible Dean,” you smile studying him. “I,” you pause biting your bottom lip when you notice he’s watching your every move. Biting the bullet, “I love you.”

Astonished by your admission, Dean leans down bodies pressed together, his face nestling into your h/c hair, breathing you in again at a loss for words. He never thought for a second that you’d actually have those kind of feelings for him.

Finding your voice, strained and sad, “You don’t… I mean if you…” you start and stop a few times trying not to fall into a dark place with his body being so close. Hot breathe warming the skin of your neck as you feel a pair of lips kiss. Teeth getting into the picture as a groan leaves your lips, his arms tightening around you. “Dean?”

“I need you Y/N no one else just you,” he whispers into your ear wishing he could say those three words stuck in his throat.

Tears blur your vision at his answer, knowing deep down the actions, fingers moving purposely over your body, lips teasing the shell of your ear he spoke in. The hardening of his body over yours, his continued whispers of ‘need you so much’ with each kiss, and nip to your neck and shoulders. It told you what’s in his heart.

“Ah so you just want this body huh?” you joke going for light but a moan is bitten off at the end when his soft lips find the spot just below your ear lobe and he’s sucking lightly, drawing the tip of his tongue over the patch.

Pulling back, a whimper leaving your lips, “Nope all of you, body, heart and soul,” he answers a sincere smile gracing his features, softening them.

“Smooth Winchester real smooth like chucky peanut butter,” you state laughing at the look of surprise on his face. Pushing him back to lay down you curl up beside him head resting atop his heart. “Sleep you need your strength to heal.”

Sighing in frustration, though he concedes the point wrapping an arm around your body, the other toying with your hair. “It’s on once these damned stiches are gone. You won’t walk for a week.”

Raising up, “Promises, promises you’ll have to prove it to me.”

Cupping the back of your head, to bring your mouth within a hairs breathe of his, “I make good on all promises baby have no worries about that,” before angling up and taking your mouth with his a struggle for dominance beginning and will never end.

 

The End


End file.
